


First Time

by Insatiable_Fox



Series: Monthly Drarry Drabble Challenge [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Drarry Discord Writers Corner Drabble Challenge, Dystopian, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Midsummer, Surreal, Weird Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insatiable_Fox/pseuds/Insatiable_Fox
Summary: Harry loses something by the fire one midsummer's eve.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Monthly Drarry Drabble Challenge [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1367497
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the June Drabble Discord challenge with the prompt 'midsummer'.
> 
> I may have totally forgotten It existed. But only for a month & a half.

Silhouetted in front of the bonfire, smoke and green copper-flame licking up into the sparse blue velveteen of night sky, he looks like an avenging angel. Perfectly poised, taunt and coiled; a fallen deity sent to ravage your mortal heart to ashes. 

Time distorts, fades. The dancers around the maypole recede into nothing more than shining blurs, the shouts from vendors slinging their goods, soft whispers. You're off-kilter, spellbound under the eve's incorporeal fantasia. Stumbling like the naive babe you are, driven solely by primal, base instinct. 

His skin burns later that night, fever-hot and flushed, half cast in shadow as you writhe under him, gasping and begging for an end you've only heard about. With twigs biting your bare shoulder blades and damp grass staining your back, his body above you obscuring all traces of reality, he is all you know. 

They say you never forget your first. You're not convinced you'll survive till' your second. 

Sweat, heat, pain, and something so vital it chokes you even as it lodges, deep and fundamental, within your core. 

Your body opens for him even as your mind falls to tatters. You scrabble for purchase against the damp ground, searching for an anchor as you're flung, desperate and wayward into euphoria, and when your fingers curl around strong forearms blemished with the serpentine black of past obligation, you don't give a flying fuck. 


End file.
